Blue and Orange Tango
by deepdarkhunger
Summary: Ichigo and Grimmjow take it to the dancefloor and dance The Dance. Jaws drop. 'Nuff said, just read, yes?:D It's short anyways.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, this little number was inspired by a beautiful tango scene in the movie "Frida" between the leading lady and another woman. I just couldn't help myself, even if it is kinda, well... gay :P**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.**

**And now, my lords and ladies, on to the show, hope you enjoy the short, little, tiny one-shot!**

**Blue and Orange Tango**

Blue and orange slid across the dancefloor, moving to the heady rhythm of the tango. Blue slowly ran his hands down Orange's back, twisting him around so they were front to back, hips swaying in tandem, legs twining and entwining in a dizzying display of constant, precise, sensual motion. Hands caressed skin, breath met breath, gaze met gaze and their hearts beat together as if one.

'_I never knew Grimmjow could move like this._' Thought a heated Ichigo as he was pressed against the taller man, his leg swung over the feline man's hip as his own hand slid up Grimmjow's chest and neck, caressing his face, lips almost touching, before being twirled around again in time with the sensual music.

'_Fuck, this is even better than fighting with the Berry._' Grimmjow half growled, half purred as he tipped the Strawberry boy back, exposing his neck in the process, his strong arms supporting him as the young man's leg once again wrapped over his hip. Ichigo, once he was upright again, slid from Grimmjow's front over to his back, his left hand trailing across the blue haired man's hips as the move was executed; as he was behind Grimmjow, his left arm was encircling his partner's hips and with the fingertips of his right hand he trailed a sensuous path down the man's scarred chest, his lips pressing against the feline's neck as Grimm's head tipped back onto Ichigo's shoulder, his hands gripping the orange haired boy's upper thighs while the motions flowed. Then he spun around, facing Ichigo once more as they resumed their previous positions and moves, dancing in perfect sync to each other and the music, as if they were made for this very act and solely for each other. It was all so intoxicating, to feel each other undulate to the fervent beats, to see the passion spark between them in a way none of their fights, none of their previous experiences ever inspired.

Their audience too was stunned by their performance. Ichigo's friends, shinigami and human alike, stared with their mouths open, and many with lust, at the writhing couple in the middle of the dancefloor, Urahara smirking knowingly and mischievously from behind his ever-present fan. They all knew there was something other than hate and rivalry between the two stubborn fools dancing, but their show, their mating dance, had everyone speechless.

As the song neared its end, Grimmjow once again tipped Ichigo back, then fluidly they came back up together, with Ichigo slipping his hands into Grimmjow's hair, and him dipping closer to Ichigo's face as they ended their tango with a searing kiss that had the crowd cheering and whistling, roaring with applause. The two dancers shared a heated look, identical naughty smirks on their faces.

They looked over at Urahara, who was too-innocently sipping on a cocktail, and both thought the same thing: '_Sandal-Hat is up to something…_'

**Reviews please? ;;) Pretty please? Pretty please with a cher... no, a strawberry on top? ;;) Or maybe on the bottom...**** :P**


	2. Chapter 2

**Most importantly, I'd like to first thank everyone for the wonderful reviews! *loves you all to bits***

**So, at the request of my adoring readers :D I have written chapter 2. As always, I'm open to your suggestions and critiques, so if there's something to correct, do not hesitate to tell me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Kubo Tite does.**

As much as he'd have wanted to deny it, Ichigo was completely enthralled by the Blue Menace he'd just danced with and kissed. It had been an inevitable development between them, as everytime they met and clashed and crossed swords, sparks flew and a passionate fire swept through both of them, blood burning with the force of the famous thousand suns.

And boy, was Grimmjow passionate! His passion could be compared to that of the classical latino lover, times (exactly) 6, 666,666, while having a psychotic drive to live and conquer and dominate. Ichigo shivered at the word… it made his mind wander into places tasting of dark chocolate and sin, made him think and long and fantasize about the panther god, about what Grimmjow was going to do to him once they got home and were alone…

Sex… he'd always been a shy boy when it came to those matters, and testament to that bashfulness stood his yet-to-be-claimed virginity. But he knew, he knew as he looked over at Grimm and into those intense, mad blue eyes of his, that he wouldn't be able to handle going that far with anyone else, he knew that Grimmjow would not let him run away from this… thing between them, and that thought equally scared and thrilled him. To be dominated by this man, to know for certain that this is the one man strong enough to do it, to lead him through lovemaking just as skillfully as he'd lead him through their tango, made a sweet, delicate, dangerous heat settle in his loins.

He was having short bursts of reality infiltrate his senses now and then, as he caught himself bringing his knees together and arching his back a little, leaning his hips and belly slightly forward, as if to rub his hard on against the red leather of the club couch he was sitting on. He wondered if Grimmjow was feeling as eager and horny as him right now…

Said blue haired man, with his sharp observation skills, noticed Ichigo's minute fidgeting and quickly assessed what was troubling the boy. He was hard. His own cock, erect already, gave a sympathetic throb within the confines of his pants. Damn, this kid was like hellfire in his blood, what with his eyes and body and his insanity, so appealing and so akin to his own. And now, after dancing a fucking mating dance in front of all those assembled in this… what did they call it, club?... now the berry boy was so horny that he'd taken to rubbing his arousal on the furniture to relieve himself some of the tension. Silly boy, if he wanted some relief, all he'd have had to do was solicit his help! Grimmjow was more than willing to give him a hand, pun very much intended.

It seemed though that Ichigo was a little shy about that. How absolutely… adorable! Grimmjow never thought he'd be using that word for anyone, and mean it, in all the centuries he'd spent as a Hollow. But now, it only served to turn him on even more, it was making him daydream about the Strawberry as he undressed him and the innocent look in those eyes of his that have obsessed Grimmjow since the first moment he saw them.

So now it was really up to him to help the poor Berry feel more comfortable. Grimm reached over next to him where Ichigo was still pressing the base of his arousal minutely against the couch and touched a delicate, hot trail across his thigh all the way between his legs, where the tip of his cock was straining against his belly and the tight fabric of his pants. He grinned predatorily.

Ichigo started when he felt the trail of ghostly, sugary fire that the feline man was making on his leg, and then his world exploded and he shivered as he felt his hand discreetly slip between his thighs and begin rubbing him oh so gently through his pants.

"Ne, Ichigo-san, are you ok? You look flushed." Urahara, who was sitting across the table from them, said in a sing song voice and with a shit-eating grin on his face, like he already knew the answer.

"Uhh… yea, s-sure, I'm fine, nooo problem here! E-heheheh…" answered a flustered Ichigo, who was trying his best not to squirm or blush any further when Grimmjow's hand popped open the first button.

"Are you sure, Kurosaki-kun? Urahara-san is right, you do seem a little flushed… you're not coming down with a fever are you?" Orihime, who was seated next to her stone-faced date, none other than Ulquiorra, was studying him worriedly, assessing whether or not her healing powers were needed.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, looked levelly over at Grimmjow, who just grinned more sharp teeth at his fellow arrancar. 'I know what you're up to', he sent to the feline mentally*.

'So don't look if it bothers you. Or maybe you wanna watch? Maybe you secretly wanna record it in your eye and enjoy it with your woman.'

At that, Ulquiorra actually blushed and looked away. Grimmjow's grin, if it were even possible, got smugger and wider. He had, in the meanwhile, opened the Berry's trousers all the way and had inserted his hand inside, rubbing the kid's member sensually with his palm flat against the length of it, now and then slipping lower to cup his balls and press against his perineum, and then back up, thumbing the slit on top, the movements continuing over and over, making everything even more slick and delicious as precum was flowing freely from him.

Ichigo, who had cradled his head in the crook of his arm on the table, was by now shivering with the effort to hold back his moans and to keep from bucking wildly against that skilled, sinful hand that was making him feel more wanton than he'd ever felt in his whole life. So, drunk as he was on the delicious sensations, he carefully reached over to the blue haired man and with urgency pulled down the zipper of his pants, surprising Grimmjow with his boldness and bleeding need, and started jerking him off as discreetly as possible while trying to do it just how he liked it himself. Thank god the table was high enough! Now Grimm had joined him, mimicking his position with his head on the table, helping further to mask their hedonistic movements below, their thighs and sides pressed together.

What the kid lacked in finesse, he more than made up for in eagerness and passion. The slender hand jerking at him was beautifully, frantically pressing against each pleasure point on his dick, satiating it as he rubbed the underside, pressed the veins, pulled down the foreskin and massaged the head.

By now they were both fullheartedly jerking eachother off, both of them panting and gasping silently. They shared a fevered, utterly pleasured and blissful look as they both came at the same time all over eachother's hands. Grimm sighed and smiled contentedly, tactfully binging up his naughty hand and licking away the Strawberry's evidence of pleasure. Ichigo watched rapt as his… partner… licked delicately at his spunk, and, spellbound, he brought his own fingers to his own lips and licked them, first testily, darting his tongue out to taste the treat, then, satisfied at the salty, earthy, masculine taste that was purely Grimmjow, lapped it up, grinning.

Slowly, after coming back to reality, they noticed that everyone at the table had gone off on the dancefloor and supposedly remained oblivious. Oh god, he hoped they were oblivious… He was diverted from that train of thought as Grimmjow cupped his face and kissed him deeply, so he forgot about it and wrapped his arms around the blue haired man, lost in their lip lock.

Eventually, they left the club to go home, and as everyone was making their way out, mostly in pairs—Renji and Rukia, Orihime and Ulquiorra, Ikkaku and Yumichika, Matsumoto with Soi Fon and Yoruichi—Ichigo halted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face the ever-grinning, ever-plotting Kisuke Urahara.

"Don't worry, Ichigo, your secret is safe with me! Nobody suspects a thing!"

"W-what? What are you talking about, you Sandal-Hat?" he said crossly, embarrassedly.

"Oh come now, Ichigo-san! No need to get upset, it's me you're talking to!" Urahara chuckled behind his fan.

Sighing dejectedly, Ichigo pinched his forehead and asked the dreaded question. "What did you do now, Kisuke?"

"Why, only a small illusion-projeting device for just such an occasion, it's really useful, you know!" he beamed proudly. A small, triumphant, stunned silence stretched. "Well, I'll be going now! Tah!"

Ichigo was left dazed. Behind him a purring, feline voice rumbled. "So that's what Sandal-hat was up to!"

* _I figured that since the Arrancar and Shinigami are intelligent spirit beings, that they could have developed some sort of telepathy. Which, considering how Kisuke and Aizen are, and even Gin, come to think of it, may very well be. Plus, it's cool and discreet. :P_

**I couldn't resist adding Ulquiorra into this story, he just flowed so naturally out of my head and into the fanfic! And need I mention that I've managed to write this chapter (after a week of careful consideration of course) while being literally invaded by the Mongolian Hoardes otherwise known as my relatives?:P**

**So how was it? ;;) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Once more, I'd like to thank everyone who faved and reviewed! And as a token of how much I adore you guys, here is chapter three :D I was on a roll ^.^ And i felt like making it a funny crack chapter :P So, without further ado, please make yourselves comfy and enjoy :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own teh Bleach.**

_Two Months Later…_

At first they didn't think much of it, but for a while now, Ichigo and Grimmjow had been hearing a weird squeaky rhythmic sound everytime they had sex. Now, normally this wasn't something to worry about, all beds and mattresses squeak when two people are doing the nasty on top of them, but, the disturbing thing was that the noise _wasn't_ coming from either the bed, the mattress or the floorboards.

It kept moving its source, from Ichigo's closet, to the inside of the dresser, to inside the walls sometimes. And it didn't stop there, the noise, more often than not, stalked them and followed them to wherever it was they were making love that particular day. If they were in the kitchen, it would come from one of the cupboards, if it was on the living room couch, it would come from around corners or behind plant pots, or inside the VCR case… the VCR case, for Christ's sake!

The most upsetting thing was that whenever Ichigo checked—which usually meant that either he threw non-descript objects in the general direction of The Noise, either he made Grimmjow shoot a Cero at it, but had to stop doing that last bit since his paranoid father had freaked out thinking there were pyromaniac gnomes in the house, trying to burn it to the ground, which lead to the thorough redecoration of the house in an 'Early Garlique' style that, quite frankly, stank terribly—well, whenever he checked, he found nothing, not a single hint of weirdness, not a single whiff of prank, not a trace of anyone or anything making that squeak.

It was the third week now since the entire ordeal started and both Ichigo and Grimmjow had had enough. Ichigo had become so obsessed with finding the source of the damn noise that he'd taken to starting sex to bait The Noise. Now, Grimmjow really couldn't complain about all the sex he was getting, but he drew the line at where the Berry would just run off of his rock hard and aching cock in favor of hunting for pyromaniac, voyeuristic, squeaky gnomes, or whatever the fuck it was!

So, being the more mature and, surprisingly, the more practical of the two, Grimm set out to investigate properly and find some clues. He already had his suspicions, but first he had to get some evidence. He knew that particular tonality of squeakiness, and it indeed brought to his mind the image of a little perverted creature, but it most certainly wasn't a pyromaniac gnome, as Isshin had suggested. No, this one had a tiny tail and a button nose, was made out of ordinary plush and was brought to life and inhabited by an extraordinary little green gumball. And it squeaked just so.

Strangely the little stuffed lion had been immediately awed and impressed with his fellow blue feline, and ever since that first night when Ichigo had brought Grimmjow home with him, Kon had fawned over him as adoringly as any ol' housecat. Grimmjow, of course, enjoyed the extra attention, which ended up annoying Ichigo to no end.

"I can't believe you're jealous of Kon!" the blue haired man would laugh at him.

"I'm not friggin jealous!" the Strawberry would defend. "I just don't like it…" he would then add to himself under his breath.

All the same, he opened the door to Ichigo's closet and started digging around. He knew that today Yuzu had taken Kon (or Bostov, as she called him) out to the park to have a tea party with Ururu. Way in the back of the closet he found a plain cardboard shoebox and opened the lid.

"Bingo!" he purred triumphantly. He took his time looking through the various items, from porn magazines—which he discarded quite quickly—to stolen underwear (thankfully clean), to seashells and strange looking dry herb thingies that were kept in a plastic vacuum bag… to the things that had caught his attention in the first place: a camera, Urahara's cloaking device (which he remembered with particular fondness) and a stack of Polaroids.

He started flipping through them, grinning at what they had captured. It was him and his Ichi, in various tender moments, but quite a few showed them as they were in the heat of lovemaking.

He smiled at one of when he first took his Ichi-berry, on the couch, as it were, and he was sitting in Grimmjow's lap, impaled on his cock. He remembered how the boy had moaned and panted as they held on to eachother tightly and undulated their hips, grinding together and pleasuring eachother, remembered the beautiful, familiar feel of his lover's naked skin against his, and how his insides squeeze around him tighter everytime he pushes against the berry's sweet spot.

Yet another photograph, more recent, showed them naked and kneeling on the bed, Ichigo's back pressed against Grimm's front as he held the boy possessively around the waist, both of them wearing such blissful expressions as Grimmjow's hand pumped his Berry's cock, which the camera immortalized just as it was shooting hot cum on the bed and over his hand.

By now, the blue haired man was horny as hell. As if summoned by his (naughty) thoughts, Ichigo walked into the room.

"I'm home… Whatcha got there, Grimm? Are those—mph!" his question was cut short by the soft, full, hungry lips of his lover, which somehow managed to stay connected to his even as they took off their clothes with jerky movements, needing to feel naked skin against naked skin. They rolled around on the carpet for a bit, pressing and rubbing their arousals together, both of them so eager and willing that they couldn't get anything done.

Eventually lube was found and slick fingers prepared and stretched and rubbed all the right spots until finally bodies joined wetly and smoothly.

Ichigo panted and trembled as he felt his lover penetrate him deeper than ever before. Vaguely he registered that he was on top of Grimmjow, hips flush against eachother as he rode him in minute, involuntary, incontrollable thrusts. He was pressing right against his prostate… oh god…

"Aah… sooo good, Grimm! Always so full!"

"Ah-always so tight… mmmh…"

Grimmjow was running his hands longingly over Ichigo's sensitive sides, up and down his back, and stopping now and then to rub smooth circles over his bum. Finally, as neither of them was able to go slow any longer, the feline man's hands gripped his strawberry lover's hips and roughly guided him up and down as he also thrust in time with him.

They found their orgasms pressed together on the floor and having lost all sense of direction. Ichigo lay cuddled against Grimmjow's chest, arms still around eachother. After recovering sufficiently, he propped his chin on his chest and smiled blissfully at his disheveled, purring lover.

"I don't know what you were looking at, but we have GOT to do this again soon!" he said.

"Anytime you want, my little Wildberry!" the man chuckled and punctuated the new nickname with a squeeze to his ass.

"Hey! Watch it!" he giggled. "By the way, what _were_ you looking at, Grimm?"

"Oh, you know, just some photos of us." The beginning of an evil grin was threatening to bloom on his face.

"Eh? But what were they doing in Kon's box?"

"I think we should wait for Kon to get back from his picnic and you can ask him personally…" a slightly maniacal grin spread across the blue haired man's face, and Ichigo knew then that he wasn't gonna like the answer.

And, there on the carpet, undiscovered by the two lovers yet, lay a clear, crisp picture of a plushy animal that had unzipped a discreet zipper and had pulled out a little plushy penis and was giving the camera a big pervy smile and a thumbs up.

Later, a certain Quincy is going to receive a rather stormy and angry phone call from a certain, indignant Strawberry, about a particular custom installment on his lion plushy.

**Well I must say, reading Terry Pratchett's Discworld books these past few days has rather influenced me! **

**But what about you guys? Did you like how this turned out? Does it need pruning?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: the lines that Grimmy says when he cooks belong to the Epic Meal Time crew, I do not own them, and I do not own Bleach.**

He woke up groggy and the artificial light of Urahara's Shoten was kinda giving him a headache, but his arrancar anatomy allowed him to snap out of any drunken stupor, and the resulting hangover, with much more ease than it did for shinigami. He ran a hand through his blue hair, willing away the effects of a full night of drinking, courtesy of Sandal-Hat.

Sobering up, he looked around him and took in the inebriated carnage. Renji and Rukia were collapsed ad drooling drunkenly upon a passed out Starrk, who… well, nah, he was his usual lazy self, alcohol or not.

The stuck-up Kuchiki and that big Zaraki fellow were… ew!… he so did not need to see that!

A few other shinigami from Sereitei whom he didn't remember the names of were strewn all over the place, not defeated in some kind of epic battle, as some would think, but as a result of all the top notch Vodka they've been consuming throughout the party that Urahara had thrown in joy of being off Sereitei's black list. Sandal-Hat himself was yet to be located.

Ulquiorra-emo and the Orihime woman were also nowhere to be seen, although he vaguely remembered them making out in a corner last night, right before his Ichi-berry gave him the lap dance of his un-life! He grinned at that hazy memory… wait… How wasted WAS he last night?

"Stop squirming… 'm sleepeh…" he looked down across his lap, where a gloriously topless Ichigo mumbled in his passed-out stupor. His tight jeans were riding dangerously low on his hips, providing Grimmjow with a sneak preview of the rest of them soft, round berry-buttcheeks.

Grinning, he rubbed his hands over his lover's firm globes, kneading them and earning a sleepy whimper from the Deathberry.

"Ow… fuck… my head… " Ichigo rasped, rising from his awkward position, but, thanks to Grimmjow's hands, he remained seated (quite comfortably) in the man's lap.

"Morning Berry-koi, had a good nap?" the blue haired man grinned wolfishly.

"Fuck off… and what happened?"

"Hat-n-Clogs spiked the punch last night. And then everyone asked for more."

Looking around himself, Ichigo scratched his head in disbelief. Then he caught sight of Kenpachi and Byakuya and made a disgusted face.

"Eww… I can't unsee that! What the fuck? Grimm? How wasted WAS I last night?"

"Tche! Your puny shinigami body couldn't cope with that vodka! But… you give one heck of a lap dance… my little tease."

The orange haired youth got a horrified expression on his face and looked straight into the feline man's eyes, who looked ready to eat him up, and make him enjoy it. Again. He would have replied something, but was cut off by Captain-Commander Yamamoto's grand entrance, which shook everyone present out of their daze, his fellow shinigami in way more of a hurry to right themselves than the Espada.

Genryuusai's eyes cracked open and he uttered a raspy, discontent, old-man rumble.

"This is the most embarrassing display of debauchery I've seen since Shunsui Kyoraku and Jyuushiro Ukitake threw that… disgraceful graduation party!"

"Aww come on, Yama-jii, that was a pretty good party! It had a good reason behind it! And don't you think the end of all hostilities is a good enough reason to celebrate?" the Eighth Division's laid back Captain said.

"Ah, what my friend Shunsui here means to say is… uh… we'll get everything back in order, sir." Oozed Ukitake, in the old habit of getting his best friend out of trouble.

"Good! I expect everyone here to be clean, fed and ready by noon! We've got some paperwork to take care of!"

Yamamoto assigned everyone their duties, with Grimmjow on kitchen duty. The other two Espada shared a horrified look.

"With all due respect, I don't think letting him near food is a wise decision, sir." Said Ulquiorra flatly. The old man was unimpressed.

"Everyone has been instructed, now get going!" and with that, he disappeared.

Eventually everyone gathered in the large kitchen where Kisuke had lead them. He had finally come out of wherever he had passed out last night, looking just as awful as the rest of his guests, if not more so.

They were sat at a spacious, solid table, most of them nursing their hangovers with coffee.

Grimmjow had every course neatly assembled on an island-countertop. He had an apron on, which had the inscription 'YOU AIN'T KISSING THE COOK, THE COOK WILL SCREW YOU STUPID!'

"Alright haters!" he boomed. " Whatcha know about breakfast? Wake up! Wake the fuck up!"

"Breakfast ain't breakfast without a big ass omelet!" he said to his awestruck and pained audience. "Am I right, haters?" he paused dramatically.

"We got bacon, sausages, waffles, eggs, chocolate-chip pancakes, cheese sticks… more BACON! All that shit, deep-fried in beer-batter and covered in Jack-Daniels-maple-syrup!" you could practically hear the theme song from the movie 300 in the background, it was that EPIC! Another dramatic pause.

"Next time, we eat a house!" his words had a crushing confidence behind them that left everyone at the table, including the two other Espada, being suddenly very, very scared of the blue haired menace.

Finally, as the huge platter full of heavy food was placed in front of them, Ichigo, with his eye twitching, said, "You… you hypermasculine maniac! You expect us to eat THAT after a full night of drinking? It'll get us drunk all over again! Assuming we survive by the end of this food! I can feel my veins clogging up with cholesterol just by looking at it!"

Unwaveringly, Grimmjow stared him down, a towering menace that towered impossibly over the impossible tower of food, which loomed and dominated the table and all those assembled. Ichigo felt a thousand knots in his throat.

"I suggest you eat your FUCKING BREAKFAST, Sweetcheeks! And that goes for everyone a' ya!"

Kisuke sweatdropped and looked about ready to either puke, or cry, or both, for once being outfoxed, not by devious scheming, but by The Devil's Breakfast. 'Damned if I eat it, damned if I don't… Grimmjow-san is a more dangerous fiend than I ever predicted…' thought the tanuki-man.

The austere silence was broken by the sound of piggish nom-ing.

"Man, now this is what I call breakfast! Ya pussies can't handle REAL MAN food! Tche… Good job, Jaggerjaques, glad someone here is a REAL MAN!" Kenpachi spoke with is mouth full, and gave Grimmjow the fist-bang salute. Grimmjow smiled maniacally and sat down at the table, beginning to devour his own helping of chow, but not before another booming command of "EAT, haters!"

By the time every bit of food was gone, Urahara Kisuke was doing an involuntary impersonation of a beached whale, as everyone else was, except for Grimmjow, Kenpachi, and not-so-surprisingly, Orihime and Rangiku. Burping loudly, exhaustedly, the blond man gurgled "By Yamamoto's beard…*burp*…I swear… I'm never letting Grimmjow-san cook again!"

Yoruichi rolled heavily on her side and hi-fived with Grimmjow, who was contentedly picking his sharp teeth with a toothpick.

Ichigo moaned stuffily, "Darn… cats… why… did we all… have to pay?"

"That's easy. Because y'all got drunk on a work day. But I'm willing to give you a… reward, for all your trouble, Ichi." The feline mad man answered with a self-satisfied and lustful expression on his face.

"Bastard…" the berry cussed, and then passed out. Ulquiorra poked him in the side a few times, like a kid poking a dead animal. Ichigo burped in response.

"Well, look on the bright side, guys… at least we won't get in any trouble with the old goat for not showing up, considering he specifically ordered you to cook for us, Grimmjow-san." Said Shunsui in that laid back tone of his. Ukitake resisted the urge to face-palm. Or puke. Either one.

There was a collective relieved sigh around the table, with Renji and Rukia hi-fiving behind the always solemn-looking, but also relieved Byakuya, and somewhere in Sereitei, Yamamoto sneezed several times in a row.

"Darn kids… no respect for their elders…" he muttered, by now having figured out that nobody would show up until tomorrow, at best.

"They just can't handle REAL MAN food…"

A plate was placed in front of him, hosting a gigantic, deep-fried meatball from Hell, wrapped in bacon and covered with enough cheese dip to drown a village.

'Nope, they just can't handle it!' and with that last thought, he dug in. Literally.

_**Owari for now, but I'll be back with more chapters, mwahahahahaha! :)**_


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